


(Un)Walking Wounded

by StBridget



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 11:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: A wounded Jack is not fun to have around.  Still, Mac reminds himself he's in this for better or worse.





	(Un)Walking Wounded

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompts:
> 
> "Pass me the remote." "You have legs." "I was shot in both knees!" "You still have legs!"
> 
> And
> 
> "I'm with him. For better for for worse."  
> "It'll probably be worse."  
> "I knew that the day I met him."
> 
> Also, for Wounded Wednesday over on FanFiction Challenge on FB.

“Pass me the remote,” Jack Dalton said to his partner and lover, Angus “Mac” MacGyver, from where he was sprawled on the sofa—where he could easily reach the remote if he stretched himself.  Mac, on the other hand, was in the kitchen, getting a glass of water for Jack—his latest demand, literally two minutes ago.

Jack was going to be the death of him.  Mac had been waiting on the older man hand and foot for two weeks since he’d been wounded on a mission, and Jack had been running him ragged.  It seemed like he always needed something—the remote, a book, a glass of water, a movie or CD to be put on, his phone, his laptop, something.  Half the time whatever it was was just feet away.  Why did Mac love this man, again?  Oh, yeah, he was smart, funny, considerate, loyal to a fault (which, Mac reminded himself, was how they got in this situation in the first place—Jack had, as usual, thrown himself headfirst into danger to save Mac), and it didn’t hurt that he was damn sexy and fantastic in bed to boot.

“You have legs,” Mac snapped, unable to keep his temper in check.  Yes, Jack was wounded, but that didn’t make Mac his personal slave.

“I was shot in both knees!” Jack said, incredulous.

“You still have legs!”  Okay, now Mac was just being childish.  He braced his hands against the counter and closed his eyes, counting to 10, then 50, then starting to 100, but giving up at 67 because he realized there just wasn’t a high enough number to calm his irritation at Jack.

“Please, Mac?” Jack whined.  “It’s too far away.”

68…69…70…71…”It’s right there!”

“Mac, you know I can’t move that far.”  And really, could Jack be any more pathetic?

 _Do not kill your lover.  Do not kill your lover.  Even if you can hide the body where no one can find it._   “How come you can get up and go to the bathroom on your own with no problem, but you can’t reach the remote?”

Jack wasn’t giving up.  “You know I had therapy this morning.  I _hurt_.”

Mac had to admit he probably did.  Whining aside, you couldn’t say Jack didn’t keep up with his therapy.  In fact, he probably kept up too well.  Mac had heard the therapist tell Jack to slow down, take it easy, but Jack wouldn’t listen.  He was determined to push his body to the breaking point.  That was one of the things Mac loved about him—his unwillingness to give up.  It was also one of the things that drove him crazy.

Mac sighed, letting his anger go on the exhale.  He picked up the glass of water and brought it to Jack, picking up the remote on the way.  He handed both to the older man.  Jack took them gratefully.  “Thanks, Mac.  I really appreciate it.”

Mac sat down next to his lover and placed a hand on Jack’s thigh.  “I know.  I’m sorry I got upset.”

Jack aimed the remote at the TV, making a face when the news came on, yammering about some new terrorist group he and Mac would probably have to take down as soon as Jack was back on his feet.  He started flipping channels, looking for something mindless, throwing the remote down in frustration when he couldn’t find anything.  “Over 200 channels and nothing worth watching.”

Mac picked up the discarded remote.  “How about Die Hard?”

“We don’t have to.  I’ve already made you watch it five times in the last two weeks.  You’re probably sick of it.”

Mac pulled up Netflix and scrolled to the movie.  “If it makes you happy, I’ll watch it as many times as you want.”  It was the least he could do to make up for his temper tantrum.

Jack’s face lit up, and he clasped Mac on the shoulder.  “Really, Mac?  You’re the greatest.”

Mac chuckled.  “I know.”  He set down the remote and snuggled into Jack’s side.  The hand on his shoulder slid around him and pulled him in tighter.  Mac sighed in contentment.  Really, he wouldn’t trade this for the world, complaining aside.

They watched the movie in silence for a few minutes.  Then, Jack spoke.  “I’m sorry I’ve been so demanding.  I just hate not being able to do anything.”

“I know,” Mac said, not moving from his comfortable spot against Jack.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me out,” Jack continued.

Oh, no.  They weren’t going there.  Not again.  Jack’s mind wandered to dark places far too often, especially when he was wounded and had nothing better to do than brood.

Mac sat up and faced Jack.  “Jack, I am not going to throw you out,” he said firmly.

Jack wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “I don’t know why not.  I’d throw me out.”

“Nobody is throwing anybody out,” Mac said.  He was adamant on that point.

Jack kept staring straight ahead.  “I don’t know why you put up with me, anyway.”

“Look at me, Jack,” Mac said, firmly.  Jack finally looked, brown eyes looking lost.  “I would never throw you out.  I love you.  I’m with you for better or worse.”

Jack looked even more mournful.  “It’ll probably be worse.”

“I know,” Mac said.  “I knew that the day I met you.  I didn’t walk away then, and I’m not walking away now.  We’re _partners,_ Jack, in work and in life.  There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll put up with me.”

It was Jack’s turn to chuckle, but there wasn’t any humor in it.  “I think you’re the one who does all the putting up with.”

“We both do our share,” Mac said.  “So, how about it?”

“That almost sounded like a marriage proposal,” Jack said, probably trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe it was.”  Why not?  It wasn’t like Mac hadn’t thought about it.  Sure, he pictured a romantic dinner, going down on one knee, the whole nine yards, but when had they ever done anything the normal way?

Jack looked at him, wonder in his eyes.  “Are you serious, Mac?”

Mac made up his mind.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I am.  Marry me, Jack.”

Jack threw himself at Mac, wincing at the pain, but not letting up his grip.  “Yes, Mac!  Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Mac hugged him back.  They sat there, wrapped up in each other, until Mac pulled away.  “Good.  But first, let’s finish Die Hard.”


End file.
